Day for Dying

by Dorothy Simpson

  ‘We think you might be in a unique position to help us, Mrs Mallis,’ said Lineham.

  Very neat, Mike. A hint of flattery should go down well here.

  But she was wary. ‘Oh?’

  ‘You’ve had quite a bit of time to think about Mr Jeopard’s death, and you’ll understand that unless and until we can prove otherwise, we have to treat it as suspicious. In which case, whether it was deliberate or accidental, we must assume that someone here tonight was on bad terms with him. Now, you are in the position of being in the family, so to speak, but not one of them. We’re hoping you’ll be able to put us in the picture.’

  ‘I’ve been asked to do many things in my time,’ and again she flicked a glance at Thanet, ‘but never before to be a police informant.’ She smiled to take the sting out of her words.

  It hadn’t registered when she met them at the door, but her voice was husky, gravelly, almost. Thanet guessed she was a smoker and almost as if she had picked up what he was thinking she reached into a side pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  ‘D’you mind?’

  Lineham would, Thanet knew, but the sergeant shook his head. ‘Go ahead.’

  She fished out a lighter – gold, by the look of it – and lit up, inhaling deeply. ‘That’s better.’

  Lineham looked at the long plume of smoke curling towards him and Thanet could see the sergeant willing himself not to duck or wave it away.

  In a murder case we need all the help we can get,’ Thanet said.

  She drew on her cigarette, inhaled, blew out smoke again. ‘I imagine the Sylvesters didn’t say a word about Gerald Argent?’

  ‘No,’ said Lineham. ‘Why?’

  ‘They wouldn’t. He’s their blue-eyed boy. Until recently he was engaged to their daughter.’

  ‘To Tess Sylvester?’

  She nodded, looked around for an ashtray.

  Lineham fetched one for her. ‘So what happened?’

  She tapped the ash off her cigarette before answering. ‘Max was an old flame of Tess’s, I believe, but he’s been away a lot, travelling. He’s a travel writer, I don’t know if you knew that. Anyway, Tess and Gerald got engaged last autumn and they were planning to get married this summer. Then at Christmas Max comes back from a really long trip to South America. He’d been away about two years. When he found Tess was engaged he went all out to get her back from Gerald. And believe me, when I say all out, I mean all out – he positively showered her with flowers, presents, letters, the works. I should be so lucky! At first she wasn’t having any but in the end she gave in, broke off with Gerald and got engaged to Max. Of course, you have to make wedding arrangements ages ahead these days, to book up the church, the reception and so on, so what does she do? Decide to use the ones she’d already made with Gerald, that’s all! She was even going to use the same wedding dress – well, she was having it specially made, but even so it’s a bit much, wouldn’t you agree?’

  Her attitude left a nasty taste in the mouth, thought Thanet. Where was her loyalty to her employers? Had the Sylvesters done something to set her against them? And if she didn’t like it here, why stay? Competent housekeepers are at a premium these days.

  ‘So, this Gerald,’ said Lineham. ‘Was he here tonight?’

  ‘He was invited,’ she said, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘But he refused.’ She paused, for effect. ‘Originally, that is. He obviously changed his mind. Yes, he was here. But they weren’t on speaking terms.’

  ‘He and Max Jeopard, you mean?’

  ‘That’s right. In fact, I saw him deliberately snub Max.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I wasn’t right next to them, so I didn’t hear what was said. But I saw Max speak to him and hold out his hand. Gerald didn’t say a word, just turned away.’

  ‘What did Max do?’

  ‘Just shrugged and laughed it off. What else could he do?’

  ‘Did you see either of them during the supper interval, before Mr Sylvester raised the alarm?’

  ‘Not that I can recall. I was too busy collecting up dirty glasses to notice anyone, really.’

  ‘Well, if you do remember, perhaps you could let us know.’

  ‘There’s more, if you’re interested.’

  ‘Please.’ Lineham waved a hand. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Everyone will tell you that Max was a terrible flirt. The type who couldn’t keep his hands off an attractive female.’ Again that sideways glance from beneath her lashes at Thanet. ‘You know what I mean?’

  Was she implying Jeopard had made a pass at her?

  ‘You’re saying he was fooling around at his own engagement party?’ said Lineham.

  ‘I was moving around a lot, naturally, making sure that everything was running smoothly, and I saw him make a pass at least twice during the evening.’

  ‘Was Tess around? Did she see him?’

  ‘Once she did, certainly.’

  ‘How did she react?’

  ‘How d’you think? A face like thunder. But he got around her. He always could, I imagine. He had a lot of charm. But more to the point, I think his fun and games got him into some kind of trouble.’

  ‘With the boyfriend of one of the girls he made a pass at?’

  ‘No. With a woman. Unfortunately I didn’t actually see what happened. I was in the next room, just heard this brief commotion, voices raised in anger, then an unmistakable sound.’ She paused. She evidently enjoyed a little drama.

  ‘Of?’ said Lineham.

  ‘Flesh meeting flesh,’ she said with evident satisfaction. ‘Then there was a brief silence before everyone started talking twice as loudly to cover up their embarrassment, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘So what, exactly, had happened? Do you know?’

  ‘Some woman had given the prospective bridegroom a good slap across the face, apparently. It took a while for the marks to fade.’

  ‘So who was the woman?’

  She shrugged. ‘No idea. Someone he’d been playing around with, no doubt. Hell hath no fury and all that.’

  She had nothing else to tell them for the moment and they let her go.

  ‘Nice woman,’ commented Lineham sarcastically.

  ‘Ha, ha!’

  ‘She certainly fancied you, sir!’

  ‘You must curb that imagination of yours, Mike. More to the point, it looks as though –’

  A knock at the door interrupted him. It was Bentley.

  ‘Just to let you know we’ve found the Sylvester lad, sir.’

  ‘Where was he?’

  Bentley’s mouth tugged down at the corners. In the dog kennel, with the dog.’

  FOUR

  ‘In the dog kennel!’ echoed Lineham.

  Bentley’s face told them that this was no joke and Thanet experienced an uprush of sympathy for a fellow human being driven to take refuge in so unlikely a place. ‘Think he had anything to do with Jeopard’s death?’

  Bentley shook his head, impossible to tell. But he’s pretty pathetic, I can tell you.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘His nurse has taken him up to his room.’

  ‘What d’you think, John? D’you think we ought to interview him tonight?’ Thanet trusted Bentley’s judgement.

  ‘To be honest, I shouldn’t think there’s much point. He’s obviously in a bit of a state. By tomorrow he might have calmed down. And he’s not going anywhere, is he?’

  ‘We’ll leave it then.’ Thanet glanced at his watch. One-twenty-five. in fact, I think we’ll call it a day.’

  He got into his car carefully, conscious of his aching back, which always played up when he was tired. Lately it had been troubling him more and more and he had even begun to experience pain in his right hip. Over the years he had seen an orthopaedic specialist more than once and had undergone several courses of physiotherapy, but nothing had really worked. Lately, alarmed by the possibility that his back problem might now be affecting his hip, Joan had been urging him to see a chiropra
ctor. Some people swore by them, she said. Tired of trying various treatments and convinced that nothing was going to do any good, Thanet had resisted. But Joan had refused to give up and finally he had been driven to make the fatal mistake of moving from outright refusal to argument.

  ‘Do you realise just how many charlatans there are around? Anyone can put up a board and set up a practice as a chiropractor, did you know that?’

  ‘Luke, for heaven’s sake, I’m not a complete dimwit! Of course I know that! The simple answer is to make sure you find one that is registered.’

  ‘There might not even be one, locally.’

  They both knew that by now he was putting up only a token resistance. Joan had got out the yellow pages and plonked the book in front of him.

  ‘ “Let your fingers do the walking,” ’ she had quoted.

  And so it was that, just to keep her quiet, he had capitulated. His first appointment was to be on Monday afternoon. Perhaps, he thought as he started the car, he would now be able to cry off, pleading pressure of work with this new case. No, there was no point. Once Joan made up her mind about something like this he might as well bow to the inevitable.

  • • •

  Next morning he ate a solitary breakfast and took Joan up a cup of tea before leaving for work.

  She was awake. ‘Oh, lovely, darling. Thank you.’

  ‘I should have a lie-in if I were you.’ Thanet sat down on the bed to be companionable for a few minutes.

  ‘I’ll see. What time did you get in? I didn’t hear you.’

  ‘A quarter to two.’

  She gave a sympathetic groan. ‘What did you think of Ben’s little announcement last night?’

  ‘Much the same as you, I imagine. We’ll have to see what we can do to get him to change his mind.’

  ‘The trouble is, you know what they’re like at his age. Put up any opposition and it’ll only make him more determined.’

  ‘I know. We’ll just have to be careful. But we must try, don’t you agree?’

  Joan sighed. ‘There always seems to be some problem . . .’

  ‘Bridget didn’t ring last night?’

  ‘No. I really am getting worried. She should have arrived in Adelaide by now.’

  Bridget was travelling with the Experiment for International Living, an excellent organisation which arranges homestays for young people in most countries of the world, in the cause of international understanding. Bridget had heard about it through a friend. Thanet and Joan, alarmed at the idea of her travelling alone, had been happy to know that she would be moving from one family to another and that someone would be around to help her if she ran into difficulties. So far the trip had gone smoothly. Each time she arrived in a new place she had made a brief phone call to tell them of her arrival. She had stayed in both North and South Islands in New Zealand and was now in Australia. The day before yesterday she should have arrived in Adelaide but so far there had been no word. Fearsome stories of young women raped, mugged or even murdered in Australia during recent years had constantly been in Thanet and Joan’s minds and now, once again, they tried to reassure each other by suggesting all the possible reasons for the delay. Finally Thanet glanced at his watch. ‘Sorry, love. I really must go.’

  Joan put up her face for his kiss. ‘Hope it goes well today.’ She knew how hectic the first full day of a new case could be.

  Outside it was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, the clouds of blossom on the spring-flowering trees lighting up the quiet Sunday-morning streets. Thanet put behind him regrets that he couldn’t spend the day with Joan and began to plan his priorities. By the time he reached the office he had them clear in his mind.

  Lineham was already engrossed in reports of interviews with last night’s party guests. He waved a sheaf at Thanet. ‘Bentley and Wakeham must have sat up half the night to do these.’

  ‘I thought I told them to go home!’

  ‘You know what they’re like.’

  Thanet did: Bentley reliable and conscientious, Wakeham as keen as mustard. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. ‘Anything interesting?’

  ‘Couple of things. You know what the housekeeper said about Jeopard being slapped on the face? That was a girl called Anthea Greenway, apparently. I was wondering . . . Wasn’t the girl Mr Sylvester sent up to sit with his daughter called Anthea?’

  ‘Yes, she was. The one in the Chinese outfit. She and Tess have known each other for years, he said. Does anyone know why she slapped Jeopard?’

  ‘Not what actually precipitated it. But it seems to be common knowledge that she was his girlfriend at one time.’

  Thanet frowned. ‘I wonder when. According to the housekeeper, it was Tess he used to go out with before he went to South America and Tess he made a dead set at when he came back at Christmas.’

  ‘She certainly gave the impression that he launched straight into trying to get Tess back from Argent. So if it’s true he used to go out with Anthea it must have been before he left.’

  ‘But in that case . . . A bit odd, isn’t it, Mike? Not only that she should still be angry with him, after so long, but that she should have saved up demonstrating it until his engagement party?’

  ‘No use expecting logic where women are concerned. More to the point, I wonder if she was angry enough to have shoved him into the swimming pool later on.’

  ‘He’d hardly agree to meet her after she slapped his face, surely. But I agree, it’ll have to be looked into. Anything else?’

  ‘A couple of people mention him making passes at other women, like the housekeeper said.’

  ‘Any jealous boyfriends or husbands hovering in the background?’

  ‘If there were, nobody’s saying so.’

  ‘That it, then?’ Lineham had a tendency always to save the best news to last and Thanet suspected that the glint in the sergeant’s eye denoted an interesting titbit yet to come.

  ‘At least three people mention the fact that around nineish a note was handed to Jeopard. He glanced at it, then shoved it in his pocket.’ Lineham made the statement with an air of triumph, like a dog laying a particularly juicy bone at his master’s feet.

  ‘Really? Now that is interesting. An assignation, you think? Meet me in the pool house during the supper interval, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Highly likely, I should think.’

  ‘We didn’t find any note in his pockets, did we?’

  Lineham shook his head.

  ‘So what became of it, I wonder. Who delivered it?’

  ‘One of the waitresses.’

  Thanet glanced at his watch. Time for the specially called morning meeting. ‘Get Wakeham to try and track her down, will you, find out who gave it to her. And get him to double-check Jeopard’s clothes, make sure that it wasn’t in any of his pockets. I suppose it’s possible that we could have missed it. It might have been soaked and stuck to the lining. Anything else I need to know before I go down?’

  ‘Only that accounts of Jeopard’s movements at supper agree, so far as we can tell, with what the Sylvesters told us. Several people saw him wheel his mother to their table, then leave her. Tess followed him.’

  ‘Did she, now? Let’s hope she’s recovered enough to talk this morning. We’ll go out there after seeing the Jeopards, as arranged.’

  Downstairs he followed the usual routine. Arriving outside Draco’s door two minutes ahead of time he waited for his long-time friend and colleague Inspector Boon of the uniformed branch to join him, glad that Boon was on duty this weekend. Draco was a stickler for punctuality and recently Thanet and Boon had evolved their own little ritual to lighten their day. It was childish, they knew, but they both enjoyed it.

  Boon joined him and they stood with wristwatches poised. A glance around to make sure that no one was watching and at ten seconds before one minute to, they began to chant quietly, in unison, ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . .’

  It was Boon’s turn to open the door and he did so, bowing
Thanet in ahead of him.

  The ritual continued, though Draco was unaware that he was participating. Seated behind a desk which was a model of order and implied efficiency he glanced at the clock to check that they were not late, cleared his throat and said, ‘Ah, Thanet, Boon, just in time,’ and waved at them to sit down. He made a minute adjustment to the position of the pen on the blotter in front of him and sat back. ‘If you’re ready, then, Thanet?’

  The morning meeting, one of many reforms introduced by Draco when he arrived several years ago, was an exercise designed to keep him in touch with everything that was going on in his subdivision and to ensure that each section knew what the others were up to. In Draco’s view, good communications were of fundamental importance and Thanet had to concede that, as usual, the Superintendent was right. To begin with everyone had grumbled at the fiery little Welshman’s crusade for greater efficiency but before long they were admitting that it had paid off. Morale had improved and the crime detection rate had shown a marked increase. At times the Superintendent had driven his staff to distraction but gradually his idiosyncracies had come to be regarded with an indulgent amusement and his staff had grown to respect him, become fond of him, even. They had all watched with dismay as Draco, who adored his wife, had struggled to keep his spirits up during her lengthy fight against leukaemia, and had rejoiced with him when, little by. little, the tide had turned in her favour. Now it was hard to believe that the man who sat behind the desk, black eyes glittering like new-cut anthracite, body tense with suppressed energy, could ever have been so demoralised as to have barely been able to display even a minimal interest in his work.

  He listened carefully to Thanet’s report and as usual Thanet was aware that the intensity of Draco’s interest was forcing him to express himself as clearly and grammatically as possible, to present the facts as succinctly and comprehensively as he could. There was something about the man that made you want to meet the rigorous standards he imposed.

  A few pertinent questions when Thanet had finished and then, ‘Sylvester . . .’ Draco mused. ‘Sounds familiar.’